Angel and Elsa followed the voice into the tunnel.
It was dark.
Too dark.
The kind of darkness that wasn't just absence of light—it pressed down, heavy, almost alive, making every step feel wrong. The walls seemed to breathe, shadows curling like fingers around her.
"Elsa?" Angel whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
No answer.
"Elsa… where are you? Don't play hide and seek…" Her words felt small, swallowed by the tunnel.
Silence answered her. Heavy, suffocating, unbroken.
Angel's heart thudded in her chest. She stopped, listening. Her breath caught in her throat.
"I'm not afraid…" she whispered, trying to convince herself. But her voice wavered.
A soft reply, almost a whisper, echoed in her mind.
"You're Angel… don't fear anything…"
She swallowed hard and took another step.
Step.
She froze.
That wasn't her step.
Step… step… closer.
Her pulse quickened. She could feel it now—the presence of someone else. Watching. Waiting.
"This isn't funny…" Her voice shook.
⚡ A sudden flash of silver.
A sword appeared, cutting through the darkness like lightning, pointed directly at her.
Angel stumbled back, tripping over a rock.
"No… don't… come closer…" she stammered.
💥 Thunder exploded inside the tunnel. The ground shuddered violently. Cracks spider-webbed across the walls.
⚡ Lightning flashed again—not from above, not from the sky—but from the tunnel itself. The stone walls lit up for a heartbeat, revealing ancient symbols etched into the rock. Glowing. Alive. They pulsed rhythmically, as if breathing.
Angel's eyes widened. Her legs shook.
"What… is happening…?" she whispered.
Another flash.
And in that light, she saw her.
The mysterious woman. Standing in the shadows, silver sword raised. Calm. Deadly. Unfathomable.
"No… don't—" Angel's words were cut off.
Too late.
The blade passed through her.
But there was no pain.
Only memory.
A soft voice, like a song she had always known but never remembered:
"Don't be afraid… you were born for this."
Flashes of fire.
A younger version of herself, standing alone in a broken world. Buildings crumbled. Skies burned red. And one word repeated in her mind, echoing like a drumbeat:
"Aquaria."
⚡ A final lightning strike—blinding, explosive, consuming everything.
💥
Angel gasped and jolted awake. Her body shook violently. Hands trembling, sweat on her brow, heart racing like a drum.
"A dream…" she whispered. But the weight in her chest told her it wasn't.
Slowly, cautiously, she looked down.
Her clothes… burned. Scorched precisely where the sword had struck.
Angel froze. Every instinct screamed at her.
"This… wasn't a dream…"
Outside the room, two figures lingered in the shadows. Silent. Watching.
Elsa's eyes were calm, yet sharp.
"She felt it," she said quietly, almost reverently.
The woman nodded, cloaked in shadow. Her eyes glimmered faintly.
"It has begun," she said, voice low and chillingly certain.
Elsa glanced toward the door.
"Will she remember?"
A pause.
The woman's gaze never left the trembling girl.
"Not yet. But she's closer than before."
And somewhere deep inside Angel, something stirred—a spark, a pulse, a memory waiting to ignite.
The shadows had shifted.
The hunt had begun.
And the universe itself seemed to hold its breath.